Mysterious Romance
by Lunafee
Summary: Having grown used to their routine of sneaking around to be together, Arcee meets up with Soundwave for a night of pleasure. TFPArcee/Soundwave (Sticky)


This story was submitted to me on Tumblr by an anonymous user who happened to know that I ship these two like crazy. I have _no_ idea who wrote this; and I am only putting it up for the reading pleasure of others.

I reiterate: **I DID NOT WRITE THIS. **I don't know who _did_, and I probably never _will_ know; but for now enjoy.

You can read the original on my Tumblr here: post/44283154319/all-in-one-place-for-you

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There were no actual rules on either party for what these two were doing. There had never been a need to set such rules. No doubt if they were found out rules against such activity would later be instated, but for now there was nothing wrong with it. Nothing wrong, or so they told themselves. So often they forgot it was technically fraternization with the enemy.

It was a dark night, a new moon, and far from any town, any lights. Arcee's eyes gave too little of a glow to show her his face. It had taken so long for him to finally become comfortable with removing his visor for her. At first, the red slitted optics unnerved her, as did the oddly glowing violet teeth, sharp like a predator's. But she had grown fond of them, of the tingle they left when he nibbled on her neck cables and protoform.

His digits, his long slender digits, could get into places between her armor she never thought possible. He was such a /precise/ mech, sliding his digits inbetween the plating on her back, tickling wires and setting her frame a blaze. For all her strength, she never seemed to be able to get the same reaction from him. She never saw his head loll in pleasure in this foreplay. Her own digits too short to truly reach to the sensitive wires, and for all his apparent trust, he would not remove plating.

And that did not change tonight. He kneeled down, hips close to hers, she was practically between his legs. She moaned against his mouth. His glossa was freakishly long, but oh the things he could /do/ with it. The nodes it could reach… She gently bit his lip plates, pulling back ever so slightly. He leaned, following her, the two slowly reaching the ground.

The ground was hard and dusty against her back. Her doorwings awkwardly splayed. Her legs fell apart, Soundwave adjusting to fit between them, heat radiating off of his frame as it no doubt radiated off of hers. She felt a needy brush of his EM field, one filled with lust. His eyes darkened, a dim maroon, as her own field began to synchronize, not that she did not already want this. She pushed her lips back against his, closing her eyes, her legs wide apart. Her valve cover opening with a click.

She felt a shudder run through Soundwave. She knew she was already wet, that it wouldn't take much more than a – a shudder ran through her own frame as his field intensified. As his panel withdrew and his spike pressurized. He was gentle at first. Despite being slender, he was still a much larger mecha than she was. Despite their frequent interfacing, she still needed time to adjust.

He filled her so well, so much better than Cliffjumper or any previous partner had. It was almost like a lock and key. His thrusts were slow, sensual, almost loving at first, but as it wore on, as it became easier for him, he began to thrust harder and faster, edged on by Arcee's moans of pleasure, of approval. She pressed her face into his shoulder, wanting to know nothing but this pleasure, to know nothing but Soundwave.

As she was brought closer and closer to the edge, she began to squirm in his half embrace. It was as though he would never let her go. She pushed her hips into him, constantly trying to work him deeper, moaning when he hit a sweet spot. She was so close, but she could hold out. He had a tell when he was close – when his venting became audible. But there was no greater pleasure than to come to an overload with him. It was the closest thing she would ever have to a bonding.

His venting began to hitch, he was holding out on her, holding on for her. She gave in, her spark burning in her chest, burning to reach out to his, but stuck in its chamber. No doubt the convulsions of her valve and the charge she released were the final thing to bring him over. With a shudder and a sigh, he collapsed on top of her, rested for a moment, and pushed himself off to the side. Just once she would like to rest with him still a part of her for a while.

She watched him as he turned his head, optics level with hers. He replaced his visor, and ran his servos up and down her legs. It would be difficult to pass off this paint exchange. Inner thighs rarely saw battle. But it had been worth it. They both knew that, both agreed to that. She would have curled up in his embrace if they could find an excuse for such an absence, but anything longer than this and they risked discovery. So she kissed his visor, and they went their separate ways.


End file.
